


A Story of Almosts

by snufflesfoot



Series: Drabbles (aka My Tears) [11]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, M/M, Season 5 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 08:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2342315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snufflesfoot/pseuds/snufflesfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all so much simpler then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Story of Almosts

It was the dagger that started it all.  That wretched dagger.  That wretched woman.  Who cared if her son had just been burnt at the stake?

Well, she probably cared.

But did she really have to go and try to impale the crown prince of all people?  Admittedly, Merlin had been having thoughts along the same lines, but that was neither here nor there.

The point was, it was Merlin's second day, dammit, and he was still reeling from the dragon's insane revelations about destiny (which sounded more like doom in Merlin's opinion) and he did not need some crazy witch hurling sharp objects at the very thing he was apparently supposed to protect at all costs, no matter how prattish that object may be.

It was all so much simpler then.  Arthur was merely a pompous arse, the dragon was mad as a hatter (probably from hitting his head on some cave edge one too many times), and Merlin was just Merlin, with some vague great destiny to fulfill and only an idiotic prince to deal with.

Then there was that stupid snake in the shield and then that creepy slimy thing in the water and then the poisoned chalice but all he remembers of that was something black and cold twisting his insides around and around while drowning in a cold sweat but why the hell did he do that for the prat and then Merlin got better but why the hell did the prat do that for him?

Then there were those atrocious Sidhes, Merlin remembers them quite well, remembers Arthur going down into that lake for entirely too long, remembers something hot and wet sliding down his cheeks when Arthur didn't stir for the longest minute, and remembers something slowly unclenching at the base of his chest when Arthur sat up and sputtered up lakewater.

Sometime after that it all just melted together into secret swords in robes and poisoned arrows in the treetops and curses and jinxes and hexes at every corner.  And with every dropping stomach and heart-in-throat and just-in-time spell, it seemed he got more and more attached to that foolish prince and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

His mother always did say he had terrible timing.  And as he clutched a sagging Arthur with heavy arms and an even heavier heart, as the reign of near stabs and close cuts and not quite deathbeds came to an end with the one time it wasn't almost, Merlin figured out why.


End file.
